


with laughter and love

by kay_emm_gee



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ella Enchanted Fusion, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 08:05:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8570860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: At six years old, Bellamy Blake disliked a lot of things: the soggy vegetables in the stew his family’s cook made, kisses from girls, the rolling cracks of thunder during summer storms, and the number seven (because his next birthday, and the horse he’d get along with it, was too far away). He disliked itchy socks and the way his mother frowned when he had mud on his clothes. He disliked learning how to bow. He disliked the smelly cheese the butler insisted on ordering for his families’ parties, and he disliked being sent to bed before those parties even started. He really disliked when his father went away on maneuvers with his troops, leaving Bellamy behind with his mother and their servants.There was only one thing that Bellamy Blake hated though, and that was obeying orders.{ a bellarke au based on ella enchanted }





	

**Author's Note:**

> First things first: this is an intro to an **unfinished** fic that will 99.9999% remain so.
> 
> Basically I wrote this 2 years ago and haven't touched it since but I was pretty proud of this intro and liked the fic idea so much that I couldn't just get rid of it. So it's being posted here. I have other bits I might post but no promises.

At six years old, Bellamy Blake disliked a lot of things: the soggy vegetables in the stew his family’s cook made, kisses from girls, the rolling cracks of thunder during summer storms, and the number seven (because his next birthday, and the horse he’d get along with it, was too far away). He disliked itchy socks and the way his mother frowned when he had mud on his clothes. He disliked learning how to bow. He disliked the smelly cheese the butler insisted on ordering for his families’ parties, and he disliked being sent to bed before those parties even started. He really disliked when his father went away on maneuvers with his troops, leaving Bellamy behind with his mother and their servants.

There was only one thing that Bellamy Blake  _ hated _ though, and that was obeying orders.

It was not like he had a choice, however. He was cursed. Bellamy had to obey, or his stomach cramped and his head spun and his throat closed up and his limbs tingled until they were numb. Like his brown hair or brown eyes, the curse had always been there. Only his father had noticed it, and when they had figured out what was going on, Bellamy had been sworn to secrecy, to not tell a single soul of his curse, not even his mother.  

It was a hard secret to keep, though, and there were several instances when others had almost found out. The closest call had happened one summer afternoon, when Bellamy was five and tried to ignore his friends’ demands for him to climb the tallest tree in his backyard (heights were another thing he disliked).  _ Do it _ , they had said with excited, daring smiles.  _ Climb the tree _ . He had wanted to, to impress his friends, but he had been so scared. So he had hesitated and almost immediately the curse’s warning signs had started. Even feeling the bile rising in his throat, he had fought the urge to climb. Then the pain had gotten so great that he had had no choice but to grab the lowest branch and swing his legs up afterward. He had climbed and climbed until he was all the way at the top, shaking and crying because he couldn’t get down. His friends had snickered and run, because  _ boys didn’t cry _ .

When Bellamy’s father came home and finally retrieved him, he told Bellamy:  _ boys cry, and so do men, just like anybody else. They cry when they’re scared, and when they’re happy, when they’re brave and when they’re sad. We cry because we feel.  _ His father hugged him a little bit tighter than usual that day, smiling sadly as he ruffled his son’s bedraggled curls.

That was the last time Bellamy had friends (if they even were that). The curse was too dangerous, his father had warned, to let others even guess that it existed. For the millionth time, Bellamy asked:  _ Daddy, why am I like this? _ And for the millionth time, his father answered:  _ I don’t know, Bell. But what I do know is that you are special, curse or no curse _ .  _ It is a part of you, but it does not define you. Only the choices you make define who you are. _

It was hard for Bellamy to remember that advice, though, because orders were disguised in every way possible.

_ Go wash your hands Bellamy _ , his mother would say in annoyance as he sat down at the dinner table with fingers and palms dusty from brushing horses in his family’s stables.

_ Do not run in the hall, _ the butler would admonish as Bellamy ran out to the drive to meet his father coming home from a trip.

_ Sit still and stop fidgeting, _ his tutor would scold, peering down at him with disapproving eyes over a pair of wobbly, wiry glasses. 

Because Bellamy didn’t have a choice, he washed his hands and slowed his gait and sat studying with perfect, unmoving posture. But, he didn’t have to like it. So he scrubbed his hands with a scowl, walked in slow, stomping steps, and stared at his school books with a determined frown. Eventually, his commanders would catch on and demand that he be polite, or well mannered, and better behaved, and the game would end. Still, for a little while, Bellamy had a choice, and he chose to be rebellious.

Every once in a while, his father would see his son’s mutinies, sending very small, subtly approving smiles before his encouragement was noticed. Those smiles were everything to Bellamy because it meant, that for just a moment, someone saw him for who he chose to be and not who the curse made him be.

It was those smiles he held on to after the news came of his father's death-- _killed in action_ , the message had said--because they were the only things that kept him from running away from the home he had shared with the man who would never come back through the front door.

* * *

Bellamy didn’t choose to be a brother, but it was something he would have chosen if he could have. Octavia came into the world wailing raucously and waving tiny, fat, strong fists, and something in her loud cry and determined movements made him smile. He grinned even larger when his mother sighed pleas for her noisy daughter to quiet down and his sister’s bellows just got louder. Unlike him, Octavia didn’t have to obey anyone, and he loved her just for that.

_ Your sister, your responsibility,  _ his mother had said in a soft, serious voice the first time he had held Octavia.  _ Take care of her, Bellamy, and protect her always. _

That was the only order Bellamy had never minded obeying. Even as challenging a child as Octavia was to care for (because she  _ liked  _ heights, and enjoyed playing tricks on the staff, and absolutely delighted in hiding from Big Brother Bell), her fey smiles and resounding giggle made the days brighter and the constant demands easier to bear. And she never demanded anything from him, always framing everything as a question.

_ Would you give me a piggy back, pleaseeee? _

_ Can we go on another jungle adventure? _

_ Will you catch me some butterflies? _

When he asked her why she did that, she just looked at him with serious eyes and a small smile and said,  _ Because you hate it when people order you around.  _ Then she wrapped her small arms around his legs in an enthusiastic hug before running off, brown hair flying wildly in the wind.

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, Clarke would be Char-like, heir to the kingdom and followed around by a fierce group of warriors (Raven, Monroe, Harper, Wells) -- she runs into Bell at his mother's funeral, tries to comfort him and fails...& then they keep meeting and ~all the feels~. 
> 
> Octavia would've taken a Mandy-esque role (#sass plus a dose of telekinesis powers, bc this fic would've strayed more towards superpowers vs magic). She would've snuck out and followed Bell to (military, not finishing lol) school at some point and they left to go on the road together to break Bell's curse. They run into a group of vision-seers/fortunetellers led by Lincoln (aka the gnomes) as well as element-based powered people including Jasper & Monty (aka the elves) on their travels. Eventually they end up finding one person who knows about how powers manifest--Murphy (a weird Lucinda, but somehow a fitting one??) 
> 
> The rest of the plot would follow, now that I know what s3 held, probably throwing in a little ALIE-commanding-Bell-to-kill-Clarke a la EE movie (2004). Followed of course by a true-love-breaking-his-curse-just-in-time-for-them-to-confess-their-feelings-and-mush-their-faces-together moment.
> 
> Anyways...reiterating that this fic is staying unfinished. Happy to talk about plot points endlessly but no writing will come of them - you've been forewarned!
> 
> :)


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